


Teach Me

by MonikaFileFan



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-31 14:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21447469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonikaFileFan/pseuds/MonikaFileFan
Summary: Mulder’s sweet side shines and Scully uses her doctors knowledge to help her partner out in the best way she can.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 16
Kudos: 122





	Teach Me

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a prompt from rosethornhill: Mulder teaches Scully to ride a bike (or Scully teaches Mulder)
> 
> I had a bad case of writer’s block and this helped me break through so I hope you like my attempt at flirty humor😁

——

“Mulder, I think I’ve changed my mind.”

“But you haven’t even tried it yet,” he states the obvious as her hands unclench the handlebars. His supportive grip slips away from the curve of her waist and he can’t hide his disappointment. 

He watches her suck her plump bottom lip between her teeth and shuffle away from the wheel. She’s nervous, he notices now, and can’t fight off the instant surge of affection for his strong and fearless partner. 

“Come on, Scully, I promise I’ll be right here to catch you,” he assures with a smirk.

She scoffs with fists on her hips and glares up at him through the gleaming summer sun. She’s wearing an old Bureau tee that accentuates her fit, sinewy frame and her jaw-length russet hair is pulled back in a low pony, punctuating the seriousness of this moment for her. She’s prepared - and though Mulder will never admit it aloud - he finds it utterly adorable. 

“I’m not incapable, you know. I just… have trouble getting started once I’m seated is all.”

The playful stakeout conversation of childhood quirks leading up to this event was one that had both shocked and tickled Mulder. Learning that her rainbow tasseled bike with the banana seat and training wheels still attached was the last one she’d ever ridden, had him promptly tucking that golden nugget of information away for a perfect day such as this. 

He nods with hands up, surrendering to her annoyance. “I have never once thought of you as incapable, Scully. Quite the opposite, in fact,” he confesses and feels the truth of his words coloring his golden skin. 

“Well, that’s comforting, I suppose,” she says softly, arching a brow while allowing one of her rare, toothy smiles of appreciation for him to light up her sun-kissed face. “I _ have _ been known to save your ass on occasion throughout the last six years.” 

“You won’t hear me disputing that fact, partner. I’d shout it throughout the bullpen if I thought anyone would care enough to listen to what ole Spooky had to say.” He watches her flush and turn her face into the breeze to calm it. If Mulder were bold enough, reckless, he might just lean down and press a kiss to each bronze-colored freckle peppering the apples of her cheeks. “It’s just that tomboy Dana Scully not being able to ride a bike seems like such a shame.”

“Mulder…” she huffs, facing him curiously. “I’ve never told you I was a tomboy growing up.” 

Logically, Mulder already knows why she hasn’t mentioned this fun fact about herself. One, they only share personal details of their past when confronted head on. For self-preservation, most likely. To keep the professional status quo when their deeper feelings begin to bubble too close to the surface. 

At least that’s what he does. 

Two, he finally understands that even a strong, serious woman who chooses to fight ferociously as an equal among peers in a male dominated profession, might also want to be seen as feminine as possible when more personal opportunities present themselves. 

“No,” he agrees, “you haven’t.”

“My mother.” Her statement is one of realization for Scully. He can tell she doesn’t know what reflective moment spurred on by tragedy in which her mother may have divulged childhood details to him, but the wistful look on her face leads him to believe she’s silently grateful for it. “Okay, then. Show me how it’s done, Yoda.”

He chuckles. “Oh, Scully, you hit me with a Star Wars reference and I’ll do just about anything for you.” Something flickers in her gaze that sends heat churning in his gut. He clears his throat as she runs the tip of her tongue across her rosebud lips and adds, “but Star Trek is more up my alley.”

“I’ll write that down for next time.”

Mulder waves her closer and nudges her hip playfully. “Come young Jedi, there is much to learn, there is.” 

Scully grins, rolling her eyes and urges him on. He straddles the center bar of his old mountain bicycle he’s had in storage for nearly seven years, and pops the kick stand. With one sneaker on the pedal and the other pushing off the paved bike path, Mulder’s long legs whirl in a tight circle. 

And he’d be lying to himself if his ego weren’t beginning to take over and push him to impress the woman he loves. 

“See, you just shift your weight like this...” he hollers over his shoulder and pumps his legs harder with a sway of his hips, watching Scully in the distance as she points at something ahead of him. “...and then keep your balance as you—ah, oh shi—” 

His words are cut off with a sudden jolt thrusting him toward the front wheel wedged within a pothole, handlebars twisting inward. Before he can catch his balance, his knees buckle, careening his hips down to connect with the only thing separating him from the pavement: the metal bar jutting out between his legs. 

His crotch connects with force, sending a full 176lbs of meat, muscle, and bone down on his manhood. 

“Mulder!” 

Searing pain shoots up through his balls and into his groin. “Ah, _ fuck! _” 

His vision swims with burning tears as he slumps forward, breathless. He tentatively raises himself off the offending bar and appropriately crumples into the grass with a whimper. 

He barely registers the clang of metal and aluminum hitting the hot pavement. 

“Mulder,” Scully breathes out next to him. She’s here; touching him, soothing his pride. She caresses his cheek with what he’s deciphered over the years as sympathy as she needlessly asks, “Oh, Mulder, you took a bar to the groin, didn’t you?” 

His gut clenches as a wave of nausea washes over him like a tidal wave in response. 

Mulder swings his head away from his partner’s crouch to gag and spit pathetically on a nearby ant hill. Scully has shot him; seen his body and mind exposed; watched him bleed; held him as he cried; talked him out of shooting himself with holes in his head; and had taken vigil at his hospital bed too many times to count. But she has not and will not witness him lose what’s left of his breakfast all over her pristinely white Keds as he writhes in the dirt. 

“Just take a deep breath for me,” she encourages. “That’s it.”

He groans deeply after swallowing back the precursor for puke. Carefully cupping his balls and penis, making sure the three important things currently thrumming with pain are still whole and intact between his thighs, he croaks, “I think broke my… my lightsaber.”

He hears her huff out a laugh and cluck her tongue. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, Mulder.”

“Maybe we’re better off if you teach me how to ride the Scully way,” he jests, meeting her soft, baby blue gaze as she hovers above. “I think we work best together that way, don’t you?” 

She shrugs. “Oh I don’t know, Mulder.” Her warm hand slides around the back of his neck and helps pull him up to his knees. “I kind of like the way you ride, too.”

Mulder winces with a hand still awkwardly soothing the pang in his balls and his stomach roils. “Ugh…” 

“Okay, let me take a look.” He gives her bug-eyed expression. She seems to wrestle with a decision in her mind and then gives him a determined nod. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

“Wh-why? They're still there. Trust me, I feel them.”

She sighs and knee walks around to face him. He’s hunching slightly on his knees, gripping both his crotch and his waist in intermittent agony. 

Scully gives his arm a sympathetic squeeze. “It’s rare, but if you have serious damage to your testicals or penis, then I’ll be taking you to the hospital instead of home.”

“Sonofabitch.” His face flushes with embarrassment. He cannot believe his attempt to do something remotely sweet for his best friend will end with him icing his nuts on his couch alone tonight.

“Come on, just a peek,” she smirks, and he can’t help but grin in return. If he has to endure a shot to the boys in order for her to offer up her own innuendo, he’ll gladly take it every time. 

With no one else around, Mulder reluctantly nods and slowly removes his hand, gesturing that it’s okay for her to slip into doctor mode.

Her slender fingers curl around the elastic, tickling the fine hair line above his groin, and helps him shuck down the front of his boxer briefs. 

A cool, gentle breeze sweeps across his genitals and he hisses at the exposure. He looks down to see Scully’s red head poised just inches above his dick. Suddenly, a thought he’s completely neglected to consider during his bout of pain slams into him. Her proximity alone can make him hard. And this… this will be bad. 

“Sc-Scully?” he rasps, feeling himself twitch to life. “Um—”

“—are they usually… uh, are you usually this… engorged during activity, Mulder?” Her voice is thick, honeyed, and it sends a tsunami of blood rushing downward. 

“What?” You… well I’m not sure,” he shrugs, desperately attempting to think of anything that will salve off the rapid growth of an erection. 

A puff of warm breath blows across the swell of him and fingernails gently scrape at his thigh.

Frohike. Skinner in a skirt. Byers wearing an apron… 

When her soft fingertips graze the underside of his swelling cock, it’s too late. Mulder’s harder than he’s ever been, and the pain in his balls now is instantly gone. 

The pain _ is gone _.

“You’re fine.” Scully clears her throat, rocks up to her feet and quickly motions for him to pull up his shorts. He obeys, dumbstruck and too aroused to speak. 

Risking a glance, Mulder notices that her once sun-kissed cheeks are now tomato red, and her sweat dappled chest is heaving. 

“Thanks…” He stands, chagrined at the large bulge protruding proudly through his shorts. He mumbles, “I appreciate it.” 

“Well,” Scully starts with a smile pulling at her mouth, “don’t say I never did anything for ya.”

“You… you did _ that _ on purpose, didn’t you?” 

She picks up the bike and wheels it over, grinning. “I am a doctor, Mulder. I have a few tricks up my sleeve. But I was just hoping it would work, you know with me being… well _ me_,” she says shyly, attempting to mask her uncertainty of his physical attraction for her. 

“Of course it worked. In fact, _ you _ work far too well far too often if you must know.”

Their eyes dance coyly together in the sunlight. Something new and simmering passes between them. Another golden nugget of intimacy to save for later. 

“So...” She breaks the gaze and swings a leg over the bicycle seat. “Am I riding this death trap back to the car, or are you?” 

Mulder laughs, slipping his hands back around the dip in her waist, fingers grasping at the velvet skin peeking out beneath her shirt, and leans in close. 

“Teach you, I will.”

“Don’t push it, Yoda,” she tosses back with a smirk. “I’d much rather have my partner teach me to ride the Spooky way. Lightsaber and all.”

——


End file.
